


Please Remember Me

by castielofasgard



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kind of unrealistic portrayal of amnesia and recovery, M/M, Set in season 9 but written before season 9 existed, Therefore it is highly uncanonical, all the chapter titles are songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4470353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielofasgard/pseuds/castielofasgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While out on a hunt, Dean is injured and gets amnesia and Sam, Cas, and Kevin struggle to help him remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

“Dammit!” said Sam, slamming the door of the bunker behind him.

“We’ll find him, Sam, I promise,” Cas said, trying to sound reassuring.

Sam nodded distractedly, pulling his phone from his pocket and leading the way further inside. Kevin was sitting in the library, reading, and looked up as they came in.

“Hey guys, I wasn’t expecting you back for a while. Where’s Dean?” he asked.

“We don’t know,” said Cas. “We got separated...”

Sam, Dean, and Cas had been on a hunt, tracking down a pair of werewolves on the outskirts of a nearby town. They had split up to corner them, but once Sam and Cas had killed both werewolves, they discovered that Dean had vanished and was no where to be found.

“He’s not picking up,” said Sam, tossing his phone onto the table.

He sat down across from Kevin and ran his hands through his hair.

“Damn...” muttered Cas. “I feel so useless. If I was still an angel I could find him...”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Cas. We’ve looked everywhere we could think of. Now we just have to wait and keep trying to call him,” said Sam.

Cas pulled out a chair and sat down wearily. 

“I’ll get you guys something to drink,” said Kevin.

He set his book down and hurried off to the kitchen, returning a minute later with three beer bottles. He handed one each to Sam and Cas, then sat back down and popped off the cap from his own drink.

“Thanks, Kevin,” Sam said.

“I’m going to try calling Dean again,” said Cas.

He took his phone out and hit speed dial. Sam and Kevin watched him silently as he waited anxiously, but the call went to voice mail and Cas pushed the end button resignedly.

“Nothing...” 

He took a long drink and sighed. They all sat in silence for nearly an hour, just slowly sipping their beer and waiting, either for one of their phones to ring or perhaps for Dean to come wandering into the bunker, berating them for leaving him lost in the woods.

Cas glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly two in the morning. Suddenly, Sam’s phone started ringing. Sam leapt up and dove to pick it up from the table.

“It’s Dean!” he exclaimed, looking at the caller ID.

He pushed the button and held the phone to his ear.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, bypassing the regular niceties.

“Sorry?” said a confused female voice on the other line.

“Um... who’s this?” Sam asked.

“I’m a nurse from the Lebanon Hospital. A young man with no ID was found unconscious by the highway half an hour ago and brought here. This was the number listed as his emergency contact in his cell phone,” the woman replied.

“You found... someone found my brother? Is he okay?” said Sam.

“We’re not sure. He only just woke up a few minutes ago and he seems to be rather confused. You should probably come, a familiar face should help him get reoriented,” the nurse said.

“Yeah, of course. That’s Lebanon Hospital, right?” Sam asked.

“Correct.”

“Right, thank you for calling. I’ll be right there.”

Sam hung up and turned to Cas and Kevin.

“Somebody found him by the highway and took him to the hospital in town. We need to go,” he said.

“Of course,” said Cas, standing immediately.

 

Ten minutes later, they were walking through the doors of Lebanon Hospital. The lady at the visitor’s desk looked up as they approached.

“Hi, I’m Sam Winchester. We’re here to visit my brother, Dean. He was brought in earlier tonight, someone found him by the highway...” Sam said.

“That’s his name then, Dean Winchester?” the lady asked, checking the patient list on her computer.

“Uh, yeah, didn’t he tell you that?” said Sam confusedly.

The woman looked up at him pityingly.

“No, he didn’t. He doesn’t remember.”

“What?” Cas said in alarm.

“He doesn’t remember who he is.”


	2. Somebody That I Used To Know

Sam, Cas, and Kevin stood nervously outside the door of Dean’s hospital room.

“We probably shouldn’t all go in at once,” said Kevin. “If he doesn’t remember who he is then he definitely won’t remember us so... it would be a bit overwhelming.”

“Yeah... you’re right,” said Sam.

“You should go first, Sam,” Cas said. “You’re his brother. Maybe that’ll trigger his memory a little.”

Sam nodded and bit his lip. On the other side of that door was his big brother, the man who had raised him and cared for him and sold his soul for him. And he wouldn’t even recognize his own little brother.

“It’s alright, Sam. Go on,” said Cas gently.

Taking a deep breath, Sam slowly opened the door and stepped inside. Dean was sitting up in the hospital bed, leaning against some pillows. He seemed mostly unscathed except for a long gash just below his hairline. He turned as Sam closed the door behind him.

“Hi Dean,” Sam said tentatively.

He sat down in the chair by Dean’s bed, not daring to take his eyes off him.

“Dean... the nurse who was in here just before you said that was my name... weird, having to be told my own name...” said Dean. “I’m guessing you’re someone important to me or you wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, I’m... I’m Sam. I’m your little brother,” said Sam, a lump forming in his throat.

_Damn it, I wasn’t gonna cry, I told myself I wouldn’t_ , he thought furiously.

Dean raised his eyebrows, his bright green eyes scanning over Sam, taking him in.

“My brother? I have a brother?”

“Yeah. Don’t you remember? It’s me. It’s Sammy,” said Sam desperately.

Even though he’d told himself he’d keep it together, he had already given up all efforts to hold back his tears. Dean looked simultaneously sympathetic and panicked as the tears tumbled down Sam’s cheeks and into his lap.

“Look, Sam, I’m sorry. I don’t remember. Hell, I didn’t even know my own name five minutes ago. But I promise I’m gonna try. You say you’re my brother so I’m gonna trust you, and I’m gonna let you help me remember everything,” said Dean.

“Even the shitty stuff?” Sam asked.

“Even the shitty stuff,” replied Dean with a little smile.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause shitty for us has never been normal shitty. There’s plenty of stuff you should be glad you’ve forgotten. And there’s lots of things I can’t help you with,” Sam warned.

“God, what kind of stuff have we gone through?” said Dean, raising his eyebrows again.

Sam chuckled humorlessly.

“Hell. Literally,” he said.

“Excuse me?” said Dean.

“Look, Dean... this isn’t the time for this. Everything you’ve forgotten... it’ll take a long time to explain it properly,” said Sam. “And... I’m not the only one here to see you either.”

“What, have I got more brothers?” Dean asked.

“No, not exactly. I’ll just... let them come in,” said Sam.

He stood and headed for the door.

“Hey, Sam,” Dean said suddenly.

Sam turned back around.

“I really am sorry. About all this. It’s gonna be hard for both of us... but we can get through it, I can tell,” said Dean.

Sam smiled sadly and nodded, then opened the door. Cas and Kevin were both waiting anxiously.

“How’d it go?” Kevin asked.

“Well, he’s willing to try and remember as much as he can... so I guess that’s something...” muttered Sam. “I told him you guys were here to see him to, he’s expecting you.”

He leaned against the wall and slowly slid down it to the floor, sighing heavily.

“You go, Cas. I’ll stay with Sam,” said Kevin.

Cas nodded and stepped into the room.

 

“Hello Dean,” he said.

The greeting felt so familiar on his tongue, but he could tell just from Dean’s eyes that it was foreign to Dean.

“Uh, hi,” said Dean. “Why don’t you sit down?”

He gestured to the chair by his bedside and Cas sat, perching near the edge of the seat as he frequently did.

“So, what’s your name?” Dean asked, his eyes wandering over Cas’ features as though trying to find something he remembered.

“I am Castiel. Although, you’ve always just called me Cas,” he said.

Dean frowned, his gaze lingering for a moment on Cas’ eyes.

“Castiel...” he murmured. “Kinda weird name... your parents hippies or something?”

“No, my father is...” Cas stopped short, realizing how crazy he was about to seem. “It’s a long story, I’ll explain later.”

“Right...” said Dean. “So, Sam says you’re not another brother so... who are you?”

“I’m your friend,” Cas hesitated. “Your best friend.”

Dean stared at him sadly.

“God, I wish I could remember you. And Sam too. Why did this have to happen?” he said in frustration.

“I don’t know. I only wish I could still fix you,” said Cas.

“What do you mean, still?” Dean asked.

For the first time since he’d entered the room, Cas dropped his gaze from Dean’s face.

“That’s another long story for later... I... I should let Kevin see you now...”

Cas stood up very abruptly and hurried out, leaving Dean staring after him, slightly hurt from his sudden departure. Sam and Kevin looked up as Cas closed the door behind him.

“You okay?” Sam asked, seeing the pained expression on Cas’ face.

“This would be so much easier if we were just normal people,” said Cas, joining Sam on the floor. “You can go in now, Kevin.”

 

Kevin gave Sam and Cas each a sad smile. He walked slowly into Dean’s room, closing the door behind him.

“So you must be Kevin. Cas mentioned your name,” said Dean.

“Yeah. I’m Kevin Tran,” he said, taking a seat.

“So you’re another friend, I take it?”

“Yeah. Not as good as Cas, but... well... you’ve saved my life a couple of times, so I guess that counts for something,” said Kevin.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Dean chuckled.

Kevin smiled a little.

“So are you okay? I mean, besides the whole not remembering...” he asked.

“Yeah. My head hurts a bit and I’m kinda sore but other than that I think I’m okay. Well... except for the amnesia or whatever...” said Dean.

“Well, the nurse said you’ll be able to come home in the morning, you’ll just have to come in regularly to check on your progress, so that’s a good thing,” Kevin said.

“Yeah, that is. Maybe going home will jog my memory a bit,” said Dean.

“Well, I should warn you, home isn’t exactly normal for us,” said Kevin.

“Dude, Sam said we’ve literally gone through Hell and my best friend’s name is apparently Castiel. I’m not gonna expect anything to be normal,” Dean laughed.

Kevin chuckled.

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he said, getting to his feet.

“Thanks, Kevin. And... tell Sam and Cas thanks too. See you in the morning?” said Dean.

“First thing,” said Kevin.

Then he rejoined Sam and Cas in the hallway. They went back to the front desk where they were told that they could come pick up Dean at eleven thirty. Then they drove back to the bunker and went to bed without a word.

 


	3. The Story Of Us

Sam parked the Impala and pulled the keys from the ignition, staring at Dean.

“So.... we live in a bunker in the woods?” Dean said.

“I told you it wasn’t normal,” said Kevin.

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

“Wait until you see inside,” said Cas.

“What’s inside? Is it a secret base? Are we spies? Oh god, we’re not terrorists are we?” asked Dean.

Sam chuckled a little.

“You’ll see,” he said, getting out of the car and leading the way to the door.

They stepped inside the bunker and Kevin flipped on the lights. 

“Whoa,” gasped Dean. “What is this place?”

“It’s the headquarters of a secret society called the Men of Letters,” Sam explained. “They’re all gone now... except us.”

“So it _is_ a secret base. What are the Men of Letters, then? What do they do?” Dean asked.

“It’s a pretty long story, and we didn’t come into it until pretty recently. We should probably start from the beginning,” said Sam.

“Right, yeah, of course,” Dean nodded.

“You’re probably hungry, Dean, all you’ve had is hospital food and that stuff kinda sucks,” said Kevin.

“Yeah, I’m starving,” said Dean.

“Okay, why don’t you guys go down to the library and I’ll bring something,” said Kevin.

“I’ll help you,” Cas offered.

“Uh, sure, thanks,” said Kevin.

They went down to the kitchen and Sam led Dean to the big table in the library. Cas started making coffee and Kevin opened the fridge.

“Do we have any pie?” Cas asked.

“I think there might still be a leftover slice... oh, yeah, here it is,” said Kevin, pulling it out.

A few minutes later, Cas and Kevin came into the library with a sandwich, a slice of apple pie, and a steaming mug of coffee.

“Thanks,” said Dean.

Cas and Kevin sat down.

“So, Sam, tell me about myself,” Dean said through a mouthful of sandwich.

“Okay, well...” said Sam. “I suppose I should start with our parents...”

 

It took over an hour for Sam to tell Dean everything. Cas had to fill in a few points here and there. Dean never said anything or asked any questions, he just listened. When Sam finished, Dean just sat in silence, staring into the dregs at the bottom of his coffee mug. Finally, he looked up.

“So... all of that’s a hundred percent true... the demons, the monsters, Hell and Purgatory... all of it?” he murmured.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Dean. Not about this,” said Sam.

“And Cas... you’re really an angel? Or, were one, I should say?”

“Yes. I was an angel, not very long ago,” Cas replied, looking down glumly.

“Well, shit, Sam. You really meant it when you said our shitty is not normal person shitty,” sighed Dean.

“Not even close,” said Sam.

“Seriously...” muttered Dean. “And honestly, I can’t decide if it’s better that I can’t remember any of it.”


	4. Unchained Melody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just so you know, this chapter may (definitely) be my favorite destiel thing i've ever written....

A rather slow week passed. Sam had given their dad’s journal to Dean in another attempt to jog his memory, and Dean had read it cover to cover at least three times since then, desperate to remember. One evening, Sam came into the library with two handguns.

“Come on, Dean, let’s see if you remember how to shoot,” he said.

Dean looked up from his dad’s journal, which he was rereading yet again.

“You sure you trust me with a gun?” he asked apprehensively.

“You were the best shot I’ve ever seen before this happened. Maybe it’ll just come back naturally,” said Sam.

“And if not?” 

“Then I’ll reteach you. Come on.”

Dean closed the journal and placed it on the table, following Sam down to the shooting range. Sam handed him one of the guns – it was Dean’s, the one with the white engraved handle.

“Let’s just see if you remember how to load it first,” he said.

Dean took the gun. A tingle of familiarity seemed to shoot up his arm at the feel of the gun in his hand. He took a deep breath, then went about the motions as though it were second nature. He was probably a lot slower than he normally would have been, but as the cartridge clicked into place, he noticed a small, slightly sad smile on his brother’s face.

“Well... looks like you remember that... let’s see how you shoot,” Sam said.

He set up a target and came back behind the barrier. Dean raised the gun, holding it steady with both hands, and aimed at the target. Then he pulled the trigger. The shot echoed against the cement walls and Dean peered eagerly at the target, which he had shot right through the outline’s forehead.

“Okay, well, there’s the answer to that question. Apparently you _do_ remember how to shoot,” said Sam, impressed.

Dean grinned proudly. 

“So am I still the best shot you’ve ever seen?” he asked.

“We’ll see about that,” teased Sam, aiming his own gun.

Sam’s shot pierced the target right alongside Dean’s. 

“Not bad, little brother,” said Dean. “Now how about this one?”

It quickly escalated into a full blown competition, which only ended when the target board was so full of holes that there wasn’t anywhere left to shoot.

 

A few days later, Sam had gone out on a solo hunt. It wasn’t much, just a haunting a few towns over, but he promised he’d call if he got into any trouble. Dean was walking through the bunker when he heard music drifting from one of the rooms. Following the sound, he ended up in a sort of living room. Cas was curled up alone on the sofa, his chin resting on the armrest as he watched a record spin on a gramophone; Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers was crackling out of the speakers.

“Good song,” Dean commented.

Cas started and turned to look at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” said Dean.

“No, it’s fine, I just didn’t hear you come in,” said Cas.

Silence fell between them for a moment as The Righteous Brothers sang:

“ _And time goes by..._

_so slowly..._

_and time can do so much..._

_are you still mine?”_

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, then hardly knowing why he did it, he stepped forward and held out his hand to Cas, who looked up at him curiously. Dean gave him an encouraging nod and Cas took his hand, getting to his feet. Pulling Cas toward him, he started slowly swaying to the music.

“Dean...” Cas said. “What are you...?”

“I don’t know. I just...” Dean trailed off, staring into Cas’ bright blue eyes.

Without realizing it, they had both stopped moving. 

“Dean...” Cas began.

“Shut up, Cas,” said Dean.

Then, still not knowing why, he kissed Cas. It was warm and gentle and barely lasted a few moments before Cas pulled away, a pained look in his eyes.

“I can’t. Dean, I’m sorry... I can’t, not now, it’s not fair...”

And with one last longing look at Dean, he rushed from the room. Dean stared after him, the record crackling as the music faded away.


	5. How to Save a Life

Kevin walked into the bunker with a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack in the other.

“Heard from Sam at all?” he asked, setting the food on the table where Dean sat reading his dad’s journal.

“Yeah, he said he won’t be back until tomorrow,” said Dean, closing the journal.

“Where’s Cas?” asked Kevin, glancing around.

“I dunno...” muttered Dean in a would-be nonchalant voice.

“Is something wrong?” 

“No... I don’t know... it’s nothing, Kevin, don’t worry about it,” said Dean evasively.

“Okay...” said Kevin, eying him suspiciously. “I’ll go find Cas. Go ahead and help yourself to the pizza.”

He left the room and Dean sighed heavily. He popped the cap off a beer and took a drink before grabbing a slice of pizza. A minute or so later, Kevin came back with Cas in tow. They both sat down and helped themselves to the pizza. Dean noticed that Cas seemed to be purposely avoiding catching his eye. After several minutes of eating in awkward silence, Kevin slammed down his beer bottle and fixed both Dean and Cas with a determined glare.

“Okay, what the hell is up with you two?” he demanded. “You guys have been perfectly fine for the last week and a half and now you won’t even look at each other. What is going on?”

Dean felt his face growing red and swallowed his bite of pizza. Cas, on the other hand, was looking down at his hands.

“Something happened that shouldn’t have and since neither of us have ever been very good at dealing with our feelings, we seem to have reached an unspoken agreement to skirt around the issue as much as possible,” said Cas.

“And why shouldn’t it have happened?” Dean asked.

Cas looked at him at last.

“Because it wouldn’t be fair of me to let it happen,” he said. “Not when you can still hardly remember who you are.”

“Wait... so you mean to say there was never anything before?” said Dean.

“There wasn’t.”

“But... I thought... the way you look at me...” Dean spluttered.

Cas looked down again and Dean thought he saw his lip tremble.

“So... _now_ you notice...” he murmured, barely audible.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean demanded.

“It shouldn’t have happened like this, Dean,” said Cas. “If it was going to happen, I would want you to be _you_.”

He stood up and left without another word, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

“I don’t understand. What happened?” Kevin asked.

Dean stared at Cas’ empty chair and unfinished beer, feeling slightly nauseous.

“We kissed.”

 

Dean and Cas were still avoiding each other the next day and it was driving Kevin nuts. He tried talking to each of them separately but neither of them would listen to him. By evening, as they sat together in silence eating leftover pizza, Kevin was completely fed up.

“You guys can keep this up if you want, but I am _not_ gonna be the one to explain this to Sam when he gets home,” he informed them.

Dean and Cas just looked at him then went back to their pizza. Kevin sighed heavily. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out, reading the ID: it was a text from Sam. Of course it was, the only other friends he had were sitting across from him, stubbornly refusing to talk. He opened the message and read:

“ _Help. Demons. 112 35th St Newston KS. 3rd floor. Come quick._ ”

Kevin stood up so fast that he knocked over his chair.

“We’re going,” he announced.

“What? Where?” Cas asked.

“Newston. Sam’s in trouble. There’s demons,” said Kevin, pocketing his phone.

“Demons?” Dean echoed, sounding alarmed. “I don’t know how to fight demons.”

“Yes you do, come on,” said Kevin.

He was hurrying around the room, gathering everything they could possibly need.

“Kevin, wait,” said Cas quietly, grabbing Kevin’s arm. “He may have remembered how to fire a gun, but that doesn’t mean he remembers how to fight demons. He could be killed.”

“That didn’t stop you guys from dragging me around,” Kevin retorted.

“But...” Cas began.

“But what? But it’s Dean? No, don’t try to pull any crap like that. I’ve had enough crap from the pair of you today. Now let’s go,” said Kevin.

He pulled his arm from Cas’ grasp and pulled a duffel from out of a cabinet, shoving a bottle of holy water, three shotguns, and an armful of salt rounds into it.

“Get off your ass, Dean,” he ordered. “We’re going to save your brother.”

 

The Impala rumbled to a halt and Kevin turned off the ignition. They were in the parking lot of an abandoned motel.

“Here we are. 112 35th Street. He’s on the third floor,” said Kevin.

“Unless they’ve already taken him somewhere else,” muttered Cas.

“Would you stop with the pessimism? Just shut up and take your shotgun,” snapped Kevin.

They got out of the car, shotguns in hand, Kevin with the bottle of holy water tucked inside his jacket. Kevin took the lead and Cas covered from behind as they slowly made their way up to the third floor. The motel floors were dusty and cobwebs hung from every possible surface. At last they reached the third floor. At the end of the hallway stood a gang of demons, and tied to a chair between them was Sam. A blonde demon in thigh-high boots stepped forward with a sneer on her face.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the daring trio come to rescue the damsel in distress,” she said.

“Let him go,” Kevin ordered, aiming his shotgun at her.

The demons laughed.

“Oh, it won’t be as easy as that,” the demon said, turning and going back to Sam’s side. “Besides, he won’t last long anyway.”

Before any of them could even register what had happened, she drew a knife and plunged it into Sam’s thigh. His scream of pain was muffled by the gag in his mouth.

“He’ll bleed out before you make it out of town,” the demon jeered, twisting the knife in the wound before drawing it back out.

“Sammy!” Dean shouted.

He raised his shotgun and blasted the demon right in the face, then dashed toward his brother.

“Dean, wait!” Cas cried.

The other demons lunged at Dean as he ran, but he knocked them aside with the barrel of his gun. He had nearly made it to Sam when one of the demons he’d knocked down grabbed him around the ankles and sent him crashing to the floor.

“Dammit,” muttered Kevin.

He raised his gun and shot the demon now crawling toward Dean. The other demons Dean had knocked down were recovering quickly.

“There’s too many of them. We can’t beat them without the demon blade,” said Kevin.

“I have an idea,” said Cas. “Have you got a rosary?”

Kevin dug in his pockets and pulled one out.

“What’s your plan?” he asked.

“Give me a minute. You need to hold them off,” said Cas.

Then he bolted off.

“Would it kill him to be a bit more specific?” Kevin muttered, shooting another demon.

Cas barreled down the stairs, down past the ground floor and into the basement. He searched around frantically, then found what he was looking for: the water heater. Praying that the system was still working, he found a way to open it and lifted up the rosary and started murmuring an incantation:

“ _Exorcizo te, creatura aquæ, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis...._ ”

 

Kevin shoved another rock salt cartridge into his gun and shot one of the demons. He glanced over at Sam worriedly. Blood completely covered one leg of his jeans and he was looking weaker by the second.

“Now would be a really great time for your plan to work, Cas...” Kevin snarled.

“Funny you should ask.”

Kevin whipped around. Cas stood at the top of the stairs, out of breath.

“Where have you been?” Kevin demanded.

“The boiler room,” said Cas. “Holy water, anyone?”

Then he pulled the lever on the fire alarm. The sirens wailed and a second later, the sprinklers went off, dousing them all in what was now holy water. The demons shrieked and cowered, trying frantically to find cover, but there was none. As the demons tried to escape in whatever means they could, mostly through the windows, Kevin, Cas, and Dean rushed to Sam’s side.

“We need to get to a hospital,” said Dean, hurrying to untie his brother.

“I saw one on the way into town, it’s not far,” said Cas.

“Come on, let’s go,” said Kevin, going to pull Sam to his feet.

“Wait,” said Cas.

He took off his belt and buckled it around Sam’s leg above the wound.

“That should help, at least until we get there.”

Kevin and Dean each took one of Sam’s arms and they practically dragged him out to the Impala.


	6. Kiss It All Better

Dean, Cas, and Kevin sat in anxious silence in the hospital waiting room. There was only one other person there, a tired-looking young woman who was flipping absently through a magazine. Cas was intently watching the clock opposite them; each tick of the second hand seemed to echo in the hushed room like the banging of a hammer. A nurse finally approached them.

“Your brother is resting now, but he is stable. He should be strong enough to go home in the next couple of days,” she said.

“Thank you,” said Dean in weary gratitude.

The nurse smiled and left them.

“We should find a motel nearby to stay in until Sam’s let out,” Kevin suggested.

“Yeah... yeah,” Dean agreed, standing up.

* * *

 

They found a motel about a block away and rented a room. They couldn’t get a room with three beds, so they got one with two and Cas insisted that he was fine with sleeping on the couch, despite Dean’s protestations. Kevin fell asleep almost immediately and Cas not long after, but Dean found himself wide awake and staring at the ceiling even though he was exhausted. It was nearly five in the morning when he suddenly sat up.

“Cas,” he hissed into the dark.

Silence. Dean crawled to the end of his bed.

“Cas!” he whispered a little louder.

Still nothing. Dean grabbed one of the pillows from his bed and threw it in the general direction of the sofa. There was a frantic scuffling and a dull thud that Dean took to be Cas falling onto the floor. Then he saw Cas silhouetted in the dim lamplight coming through the curtains and the faint glint of a knife.

“Jesus, Cas, put that away, it’s just me!” Dean whispered.

“Sorry...” Cas muttered. “What the hell was that for?”

“We need to talk. But put the knife down first,” said Dean.

His eyes getting adjusted to the dark by now, Dean saw Cas set the knife down and straighten back up.

“So what’s so important that you had to wake me up at five in the morning?” Cas asked, joining Dean on the end of his bed.

“Do you always sleep with that under your pillow?” Dean asked.

There was a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Can’t be too careful. Besides... I learned that from you...” said Cas. “But you’re stalling.”

“Right, sorry. Well... the thing is... Kevin’s right, we can’t avoid this forever... and either of us could have died today without us resolving anything...”

“You’re saying we need to talk about what happened yesterday,” said Cas. “When we...”

“When we kissed, yeah,” Dean finished.

Cas sighed heavily and Dean could tell even in the dark that he was avoiding looking Dean in the eye.

“I stand by what I said before. No matter what I feel, it would feel like I was taking advantage of you when you still don’t remember everything. There are plenty of things that only you can remember, things Sam and I can’t tell you. How you feel about me is one of those things. And I care too much for you to take advantage of any uncertainty you may have because of what you’ve forgotten. My own emotions are inconsequential,” he explained.

“Don’t say that, Cas. It makes it sound like you don’t matter, and you do. You matter so much,” said Dean. “And if my feelings are something only I ever knew, how can you know that what I feel isn’t really me?”

“Because... because you would never have shown it,” murmured Cas.

“Feeling and showing are two totally different things. And maybe I wouldn’t have shown it before. But as shitty as it is forgetting everything, right now, right this moment... it feels like a fresh start. A chance to face myself,” said Dean. 

He paused a moment, considering.

“Do you love me, Cas?” he whispered at last.

Cas finally looked at him.

“Yes,” he breathed.

Dean leaned forward, placing a hand on Cas’ cheek, and kissed him, and this time Cas didn’t pull away. The kiss was both innocent and passionate, and it filled Dean with a heady, intoxicated feeling. At last, he pulled away and looked into the tear-filled blue eyes.

“I love you too, Cas."


	7. A Wicked Game

The sun rose to find Dean and Cas sprawled out together over the edge of Dean’s bed, exactly where they’d sat at five o’clock that morning. Kevin woke up first and smiled to himself.

“Finally,” he muttered.

When all three of them had gotten up and dressed, they grabbed breakfast at the cafe across the street before going back to the hospital to visit Sam. 

“Hey, we’re here to visit Sam Winchester,” said Dean, leaning against the visitor’s desk.

The receptionist looked at his records, then looked up at Dean grimly.

“I’m sorry, sir... but Sam Winchester went into critical condition early this morning. They don’t think he’ll make it past today,” he said.

“What? No, they said he was stable. Just last night, they told us he’d be okay,” said Dean fearfully.

“I’m sorry. These things do happen,” said the receptionist.

Cas felt his heart sink as he watched Dean start to despair. You could take away Dean’s memory, but his love for his brother would always win out. Cas couldn’t let Dean lose that. He wouldn’t. And he had an idea. Slowly, he backed out of the room, hoping that Dean and Kevin wouldn’t notice his absence for at least long enough for him to get out of the building. 

Cas slammed the trunk of the Impala, his pockets full of everything he needed. His heart pounded anxiously as he walked, hoping this would work. Finally, he found the place he needed. Pulling out a trowel, he dug a small hole, then pulled a little wooden box from his pocket. Inside it he placed four things: yarrow, a black cat’s bone, a little jar of graveyard dirt, and the picture from one of the fake FBI badges Dean had gotten for him. Taking a deep breath, Cas closed the box and buried it. Then he got to his feet and waited.

“You called?”

Cas turned around. A pretty brunette in a black dress stood there. Her eyes momentarily flashed red.

“Yes, I did.”

“What is it you want from me, Castiel?” the demon asked.

“Sam Winchester. He’s dying. I want you to stop it from happening,” Cas said.

“In exchange for your soul,” said the demon.

“Yes.”

Cas’ voice was barely a whisper.

“Funny thing. Angels don’t have souls. But you’re not an angel anymore. Raises the question... do fallen angels have souls?” the demon mused.

“If I don’t have a soul to sell, then take my life instead,” said Cas. “Just save Sam.”

“Any particular time limit you looking to set up here?” asked the demon.

“Just... just long enough to say goodbye,” Cas said.

“Alright,” said the demon. “How’s this? Tomorrow night, when the clock strikes twelve... you die.”

“Done,” said Cas, not even giving it a second of thought.

“Very well. It’s your funeral. Time to seal the deal, Castiel,” she said, stepping closer to him.

Cas had a sudden moment of misgiving, but repressed it. He had to save Sam, and this was the only option he had. Steeling himself, he closed his eyes and kissed the crossroads demon, sealing his deal. They broke apart.

“See you in hell, angel-boy...” she whispered.

Cas opened his eyes. She had vanished.


	8. This Ain't Goodbye

“Where the hell have you been?” Kevin demanded as Cas reentered the hospital lobby in a haze. “You’ll never believe what happened! Sam’s gonna be okay, he stabilized. Better than that, he’s practically healed, they’re discharging him right now!”

“That’s great!” said Cas, attempting to smile.

“Cas, are you okay? Where were you?” Kevin asked.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine, I just went out for fresh air. So Sam’s coming home now?”

“Yeah, Dean’s with him right now, they should be ready any minute now,” said Kevin.

 

A little over an hour later, they were back at the bunker. Dean helped Sam hobble inside and they all sat down in the library; Kevin slipped off into the kitchen and came back with four beers. 

“It’s weird though,” Sam was saying. “One minute I’m dying and the next I’m fit to go. It’s almost like some kind of miracle.”

He frowned, taking a sip of beer and contemplating.

“Except...” he continued. “From all our experience, there aren’t any miracles.”

“Is something wrong, Cas? You’re awful quiet,” said Dean.

“What? Oh, no, no, I’m fine. I’m just... I’m glad Sam’s alright is all,” Cas replied distractedly.

“You don’t seem very glad,” said Kevin.

Sam was staring at him, frowning.

“What did you do, Cas?” he asked.

“What?” said Cas.

There was a hint of panic in his voice.

“You did something. It’s the only way this could have happened,” Sam said.

Cas sighed in resignation.

“I suppose I really can’t hide it from you,” he said. “I... I made a demon deal.”

“A demon deal?” Dean repeated. “You mean... like what you said I did to bring Sam back?”

Cas nodded.

“So... you sold your soul? You’re going to hell?” said Dean, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

“How... how long have you got?” asked Sam.

“Until tomorrow at midnight,” Cas replied.

“Tomorrow?! You couldn’t have asked for anything longer? A year? A month?” Dean protested.

“I was afraid she wouldn’t accept the deal if I tried,” said Cas, his eyes now brimming with tears. “All I asked was for long enough to say goodbye.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Kevin asked.

“There’s nothing,” said Sam. “I’ve tried.”

 

Dean sat alone in the living room, the gramophone playing Unchained Melody once again. A clock chimed somewhere in the bunker. Midnight. In exactly twenty-four hours, Cas would be dead. Dean took a swig from the glass of whiskey clutched in his hands and wiped away the traitorous tear that had escaped down his cheek. The record ran out, leaving static in its place, but Dean just let it spin.

“Dean?”

He looked up to find Sam hovering in the doorway.

“Hey Sammy,” he said wearily.

“Mind if I join you?” Sam asked.

Dean just shrugged. Sam limped the rest of the way into the room and took the needle off the record before sitting on the couch beside Dean.

“I’m sorry, Dean. This shouldn’t have happened. Cas should never have had to do this for me,” he said. “If I could, I would turn back time and stop him from making the deal.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t want you dead either,” said Dean.

“I know. That’s just it. And I know why he did it. I talked to him. He said he couldn’t let you lose me,” said Sam.

“Self-sacrificing bastard...” muttered Dean fondly, another tear falling down his cheek.

“That’s not all he told me, you know,” Sam continued, looking at his hands self-consciously.

“He told you everything, didn’t he?” said Dean, glancing over at the record player.

“Yeah, he did,” said Sam. “I just wish you two could have been happy. If there was anything I could do to stop this, anything at all...”

He suddenly froze, a look of realization dawning on his face.

“There _is_ something,” he gasped, getting to his feet and starting for the door.

“What? What is it?” asked Dean, standing up as well.

Sam turned to him, a hopeful smirk on his face.

“We’ve got the King of Hell in the dungeon.”


	9. Last Night On Earth

“Wait, Sam, what do you mean? We’ve got a dungeon?” Dean said, trailing behind his brother as Sam hurried purposefully down some stairs.

“Yup, complete with devil’s traps and chains to keep demons from smoking out. And we’ve got Crowley locked up down there,” said Sam, coming to a halt outside a door.

“How long has he been in there?” asked Dean.

“A while.”

Sam opened the door and hit a switch. Flourescent lights flickered into life, revealing shelves full of filing boxes. Sam led the way across the room to a heavy partition, which he swung open like double doors. 

“Nice of you to drop by, Moose,” said Crowley.

He was still chained to the chair in the center of a devil’s trap, looking a bit the worse for wear.

“We need your help,” said Sam.

“ _My_ help?” said Crowley incredulously.

“You’re the King of Hell, but you’re also a crossroads demon. We’ve got a deal we want called off,” Sam explained.

“Ahh, and who was the fool that damned their soul to the deep fryer?” 

“Cas,” replied Dean quietly.

“I would say that’s impossible, but with him human now and all that.... so he got a soul just to sell it off then, eh? Sounds like something he’d do,” Crowley mused.

“So can you get him out of it?” Dean asked desperately.

“No, I can’t. You two of all people should know that,” said Crowley.

Sam grabbed Crowley’s tie and pulled him forward just inches from his face.

“Don’t lie to me, Crowley,” he snarled. “This time tomorrow, Cas will be dead and burning in hell. Unless you help us. You’re the King of Hell, I _know_ you know a way to stop this. Tell us how!”

“Well I’m not going to give you anything with that attitude,” Crowley said. “Honestly, Moose, learn some manners.”

“Seriously, Crowley?” Sam said.

“Come on, Moose. Just one little word.”

Sam glared at him and seemed to contemplate whether he should give in or punch the demon in the face. He sighed angrily.

“Please,” he muttered.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it? Now as much as I’m enjoying this homoerotic tension, if you could loosen your grip a bit...” said Crowley.

Sam rolled his eyes and let go of Crowley’s tie.

“Thank you. Now, when did you say Castiel’s time is up?”

“Midnight tomorrow,” said Dean.

“Well that’s rather short notice...” said Crowley. “Looks like we’ll have to take the slightly more confrontational route. Which means you’ll have to unchain me.”

“You’re joking, right?” said Sam.

“Do you want to get Castiel out of his deal or not?” Crowley snapped.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

“Fine, we’ll unchain you. But only when absolutely necessary,” said Dean. “Now, tell us what we have to do.”

“You’re going to let him go?!” Kevin protested.

“This isn’t going to work,” said Cas.

“You have got to be joking, you can’t trust him!” said Kevin angrily.

Sam and Dean had just told them both the plan and neither of them seemed convinced.

“It’s the only choice we’ve got,” said Sam calmly.

“You could just let me die...” muttered Cas.

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean said.

“If I don’t die, Sam will!” Cas insisted.

“Not if we can help it,” said Dean.

“Look, Crowley thinks he can make this work, so we’re just gonna have to trust him,” said Sam.

“And if he’s lying?” Kevin asked.

“Then you can be the one to stab him in the face and say ‘I told you so’,” said Dean. “But we’re not gonna let Cas _or_ Sam die, not if there’s a chance of stopping it. And Crowley’s the only chance we’ve got. So if you can’t trust him, and I don’t blame you, then trust us.”

“I still don’t believe this is going to work, but I’m willing to give it a shot. For you,” said Cas.

Kevin sighed.

“I don’t trust Crowley, but I don’t want to see anyone dead so... I’m in,” he said.

“Good,” said Sam. “Now let’s get some rest. Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy night.”

 

Dean sat on the edge of his bed, the lamp on the nightstand filling his room with a soft yellow glow. He knew he should be resting, but he couldn’t sleep. The run-in with the demons the other day had freaked him out enough already. Now he was going to have to deal with a crossroads demon and hellhounds and the possibility of failing and watching Cas get ripped to shreds right in front of him. He’d been getting nightmares recently as it was, and all of this wasn’t going to help in the least. There was a soft knock on the door and Dean looked up.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened and Cas peered in.

“Hey Cas. What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“Couldn’t sleep. I’m assuming you couldn’t either,” said Cas.

“Haven’t even tried... I didn’t want to...” said Dean.

He patted the bed next to him to tell Cas to join him. Cas closed the door and sat down.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Nightmares...” muttered Dean. “Vivid ones too. Do you think... do you think they’re memories?”

“Possibly,” said Cas, frowning.

They fell silent, then Cas turned to Dean.

“Dean... if this doesn’t work tomorrow...” he began.

“Don’t say that, Cas. Just don’t. It’s gonna work. It has to,” Dean interrupted.

“But Dean –”

“But nothing. I’m not gonna give up on you. I’m not losing you. This _has_ to work, because if it doesn’t, there’s _nothing_ I can do, you’re gone, I can’t... I can’t grip you tight and raise you from perdition...” 

Cas’ head jerked up and he stared at Dean, eyes wide.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“I said... I dunno why I said it, it sounded dumb...” Dean mumbled. “Why? Is it important?”

“Yes...” Cas breathed.

He stared at Dean in disbelief.

“Care to elaborate?” said Dean.

“I said that. That exact thing, the first time we met. After I saved you. I said ‘I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition’...” said Cas.

“You remember exactly what you said? That was, what, like five years ago?” Dean said, eyebrow raised.

“Of course I remember. That was one of the most important days of my life. And Dean... I think you’re starting to remember too. This, the nightmares... I think things are starting to come back,” said Cas, then his face fell. “Just in time for my death...”

“You’re not gonna die, Cas,” said Dean.

“How do you know?” Cas asked.

“Because I promise, whatever it takes, I won’t let it happen,” said Dean.

He cupped Cas’ cheek in his hand and gave him a fleeting kiss.

“We should sleep,” he said. “Maybe we can keep each others’ nightmares away.”

Cas smiled a bit sadly and nodded. Then they curled up together on the bed and Dean switched off the light.


	10. Leave My Body

Dean woke up to Cas curled up against him, one hand resting on Dean’s chest to feel his beating heart. He was still fast asleep, and he looked more at peace than Dean had ever seen him. Smiling to himself, Dean looked at the clock on the nightstand. Eight thirty. About time they got up and started preparing for tonight. But Dean couldn’t bring himself to wake Cas. He gently ran his fingers through the ex-angel’s messy dark hair, just watching as he breathed in and out.

About ten minutes later, Cas stirred and opened his eyes sleepily.

“G’morning,” said Dean.

“Morning...” mumbled Cas. 

He looked at Dean and smiled.

“Who’s watching who sleep now?” he teased.

“Did you used to watch me sleep?” Dean asked.

“I, uh... I did a couple of times... I was watching over you,” said Cas, suddenly embarrassed.

Dean smiled and kissed him.

“Let’s have some breakfast and get ready for tonight.”

 

Their day was spent gathering every possible weapon and defense they could possibly need. They made three pairs of the special glasses they had used during the first trial so that Sam, Dean, and Kevin would be able to see the hellhounds. Sam had the demon blade and each of the others had spare angel blades they had collected, including one set to the side for Crowley. They had decided it would be best to keep him locked up until it was absolutely necessary. They also made almost five gallons of holy water, splitting it into multiple bottles and distributing it between them.

“I just hope we won’t have to use any of this stuff,” said Sam, screwing the cap onto the last bottle of holy water.

“If it does come to that though, I’m not sure how much any of you can do for me,” said Cas.

“We’re gonna fight for you, Cas,” Dean said adamantly. 

“I know you will. Just please don’t throw your lives away for me. I did this to save Sam, not get all of you killed. If things start to look too bad, just... let the hellhounds do their work,” said Cas. “I was prepared for that fate when I made the deal. And I’m still prepared to face it if this doesn’t work out.”

“Well, let’s just hope it does work and you get to live a little longer,” said Dean.

“It’s eleven thirty, guys,” said Kevin suddenly. “Let’s do this.”

 

Blades tucked into belts and pockets full of holy water, all four of them went down to fetch Crowley.

“Ah, the fated hour has come at last,” the demon said as they entered the dungeon. 

Sam covered his head with a dark cloth so he couldn’t spy on the bunker, then they led him out. They walked deep into the surrounding forest before they removed the bag.

“Hell of a place to face your potential death, Cas. Surely you didn’t pick it?” Crowley said, glancing around at the dark trees.

“This is just a precaution,” said Cas.

“What, don’t you trust me?” said Crowley, in mock offense.

“Not particularly, no,” Dean said.

“Then why’d you ask me to help you save your boyfriend?” said Crowley.

“We were desperate. Now shut up,” said Dean.

He handed Crowley the spare angel blade.

“Have you got the ingredients I need?” Crowley asked, tucking the blade into his coat.

“Right here,” said Sam, handing him a duffel bag.

“Very good. Now let’s get to work.”

 

Several minutes later, they all stood in silence, waiting. A demon summoning spell was prepared at Crowley’s feet, but not yet activated. That too had to wait. Kevin looked at his watch.

“Three minutes...” he said quietly.

“Dean, if this doesn’t work...” Cas said, his voice trembling slightly.

“Shut up, it’s gonna work.”

“No seriously, Dean, if this doesn’t work, I just want you to know...” said Cas.

“I know, Cas,” said Dean.

He pulled Cas toward him and kissed him for what he seriously hoped would not be the last time. When they broke apart, they stared at each other hungrily, drinking in every detail, just in case.

“It’s time,” said Kevin.

Crowley dropped a match into the bowl of ingredients and the flames leapt up. At the same time, a low growl echoed out of the surrounding trees. Cas stiffened.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean whispered soothingly.

“Glasses on,” said Sam.

He, Dean, and Kevin put on their glasses and peered into the forest. But what emerged from the darkness was not a hellhound... yet. It was the demon who had taken Cas’ deal.

“You called?” she said.

“Yes, I did,” said Crowley. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Is that so?” the crossroads demon said.

“Very so. You see, this is an old friend of mine whose soul you’ve come to collect. And I won’t be having that. Not in my Hell,” said Crowley.

“The King of Hell, friends with a fallen angel? You expect me to swallow that?” the demon scoffed.

“Seriously? Your plan was to sweet talk us out of this?” groaned Dean.

“Sweet talk? Hardly,” said Crowley, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

Then he turned back to the crossroads demon and walked menacingly towards her until they were face to face.

“Listen to me, whore,” he growled. “You _will_ let Castiel off his deal, or I will kill you and your little pack of hellhounds before you can even think about screaming.”

“I’d like to see you try,” the demon hissed back, her eyes flashing red.

“You dare threaten your king?” Crowley said, his voice dangerously quiet.

“You’ve been locked away by a bunch of pretty-boy hunters for months. You’re hardly even fully demon anymore. You dare call yourself my king?” the demon retorted.

“You little –”

“And besides,” she continued. “If you do kill me, no one’s gonna call off my hounds. And do you really think you and your pathetic band of humans can beat them?”

“Yes, I do,” Crowley snarled.

There was a flash of bright metal, then the angel blade was embedded in the demon’s chest. She gasped in pain, flickering dimly through the skin of her vessel. Then she collapsed, dead. Crowley walked back to join the others, kicking the still smoldering remains of his summoning spell out of the way.

“Get ready, boys. This is going to be a messy fight,” he said calmly.

“Anyone see any hellhounds?” Sam asked, tightening his grip on the demon blade.

“There,” Cas said, his voice almost inaudible.

He pointed to a place in the trees ahead. A dark shape was shifting restlessly in the shadows.

“Oh my god...” breathed Kevin.

The hellhound emerged from into the clearing, closely flanked by four others.

“Shit,” muttered Dean.

“What do we do?” Kevin asked.

“We fight,” said Sam.

The lead hound growled, crouching, his gleaming eyes fixed on Cas. Then he pounced.

“Oh no you don’t,” said Crowley.

He stepped calmly forward, raising the already bloody angel blade, only to be knocked viciously aside – but not before planting the blade firmly in the hellhound’s throat. The hound staggered and fell over dead. The remaining four hounds snapped their teeth and prepared to pounce, but this time everyone was ready for them. As the beasts lunged forward, so did Sam, Dean, Cas, and Kevin. One by one, the hellhounds fell to the ground, their black blood dripping onto the leaves.

“Well done, boys,” said Crowley, limping over to them and wiping a bit of blood from his face.

“That was too easy...” said Cas grimly.

“Come on, Cas, we beat them! It’s fine!” said Dean.

“Don’t be so sure about that, Squirrel,” Crowley said. “We still haven’t absolved Castiel’s deal. He’s still got a price on his –” 

Suddenly, a hellhound sprang out of the darkness, knocking Cas roughly to the ground and tearing into him with its claws.

“NO!” shouted Dean.

He plunged his angel blade into the hellhound’s neck and it collapsed, nearly crushing Cas. Sam rushed forward and helped push the massive body off of him. Dean fell to his knees next to Cas, horror in his eyes as he took in the bloody mess.

“Cas... Cas, hold on, it’s gonna be okay, we can fix this,” he said.

Cas looked up at him sadly, gasping painfully for breath.

“I... I’m sorry, Dean...” he managed to say through gritted teeth.

“No, Cas, please, don’t give up on me! Don’t you give up!” Dean said.

Tears were coming now but he didn’t make any attempt to staunch them.

“Cas, please... please.... I... I love you....” he whispered.

But Cas had gone still, his blue eyes glassy and frozen, still staring sorrowfully at Dean.

“No...” 

Sam knelt down and gently closed Cas’ eyes.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I am,” said Crowley quietly.

Dean and Sam ignored him, but Kevin cast him a skeptical look. 

“We should head back,” said Sam.

“What about Cas?” Dean asked.

“We... we can bury him in the morning...”

Dean nodded and got to his feet.

“Do you want me to...?” Sam began.

“No, I’ll take him.”

Dean bent over and picked up Cas’ body with a bit of effort.

“Get him,” he said, jerking his head toward Crowley.

Sam expected Crowley to complain, but the demon let him cover his head again and lead him back to the bunker. While Sam took Crowley back to the dungeon, Kevin led Dean to a spare bedroom to keep Cas in until morning. Dean gently set Cas on the bed, brushing a few strands of dark hair off his forehead.

“Do you... want some time?” Kevin offered.

“Yeah... thanks,” said Dean. “And Kevin? Thank you. And tell Sam thanks. Crowley too.”

“I will,” said Kevin.

Then he left Dean alone by Cas’ side, where he stayed all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry


	11. Save Your Life

A little wooden cross stuck out of the ground outside the bunker, “Castiel” carved carefully into its surface. The last shovel-full of dirt had been packed over Cas’ grave, and Dean had retreated to his room. Neither Sam nor Kevin had seen him since. 

“Do you think he’s okay?” Kevin asked after several hours had passed.

“Of course he’s not okay. Cas just died in his arms. That would be traumatizing enough as it is, but he can’t even remember how many people he’s seen die before. It’s like the first time all over again... except worse, because it’s Cas,” said Sam.

He threw back the rest of a glass of whiskey and sighed heavily.

“We were supposed to save him,” said Kevin.

“I know. I wish we could have...”

 

Somewhere in the bunker, a clock struck midnight. Twenty-four hours since Cas died. Dean sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Twenty-four hours. Could it not just be a bad dream, another nightmare? Twenty-four hours... No, it had to be real. If it weren’t, Cas would be there in his arms, comforting him. No, he wouldn’t need comforting then. Everything would be fine. Twenty-four hours...

Dean stood up very suddenly and walked to his door. Opening it a crack, he stuck his head out, listening for signs of movement in the bunker. Nothing. Sam and Kevin must have gone to bed already. He opened the door the rest of the way and quietly crossed the hall, glancing furtively around. He sneaked down the stairs to the basement door, slowly opening it and flicking on the lights. Pushing open the partition, he stepped into the dungeon where Crowley was once again chained to a chair.

“You look like hell,” was his immediate greeting.

“What, you expecting me to look like a pageant queen?” Dean snapped.

“Naw, of course not,” said Crowley, softening somewhat. “I’m sorry about Cas.”

“I don’t need your sympathy, Crowley,” said Dean. “I need your help.”

“Seriously? Because, if I remember correctly, last time you asked for my help, it didn’t turn out so well.”

“This is different.”

“Is it really? How’s that?” Crowley asked.

“You’re a demon. The King of Hell,” said Dean.

“Well observed,” said Crowley.

“So you know how to get into hell.”

“I should hope so, I live there. Well, I did,” said Crowley.

“I need you to get me into hell,” said Dean.

“Excuse me?”

“I need you to get me into hell. I need you to be my guide and help me find Cas so I can bring him back,” Dean explained.

“You’re bonkers,” said Crowley. “It won’t be that easy. I can’t just go waltzing into hell with a living human in tow, especially not considering what that crossroads demon said. Who knows how many other have turned against me? It would be dangerous as... well... hell.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care if I die trying. Please just help me,” said Dean.

“I think your brother might care,” Crowley pointed out.

“I know. You think this isn’t hard for me? Even considering all I’ve forgotten, I would die for him in a heartbeat. Or for Kevin. I would’ve died for Cas too. And I’m still prepared to do that if I have to. I just need to try and bring him back,” Dean begged. “Please, Crowley, you’re the only person who can help me do this.”

Crowley sighed heavily.

“Fine,” he said. “This is complete bollocks. But I’ll help. You looked so pathetic, it’s nauseating. And I feel like I need to fix where I failed in our last little deal. When do we start?”

“Right away,” said Dean.

“Very well,” Crowley said. “Go get your angel blade. We’ve got a house-call with hell.”

 


	12. Seven Devils

“Oh god.... Kevin!” Sam shouted.

He hurried down the hallway, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. Kevin poked his head out of his room.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Follow me,” said Sam.

Kevin had to practically run to keep up with Sam’s long strides as he rushed down the stairs to the basement. 

“Sam, what’s going on?” Kevin asked as Sam turned on the lights.

A lonely chair stood empty in front of them, chains hanging over the armrests.

“What?! Where did he...?” Kevin exclaimed.

Sam wordlessly handed him the piece of paper in his hand. Kevin read:

“ _We’re going to try to save Cas from hell. If this doesn’t work, I’m sorry. –Dean._ ”

 

“You ready?” 

Dean glanced around him at the unkempt cemetery, wondering if this would be the last he’d ever see of earth.

“Yeah, I am,” he said.

“Then let’s go to hell,” said Crowley.

He pushed open the doors of the mausoleum and unscrewed the cap of a mason jar, full to the brim with the ingredients of a blood spell. He painted a large sigil on the back wall and set the empty jar on top of the stone tomb in the center of the room.

“Okay, let’s do this,” said Dean.

He double-checked that his angel blade was tucked inside his jacket, then stood next to Crowley, who began to recite an incantation. The sigil began to glow and the mausoleum shook. Slowly, the light began to engulf them. Dean shielded his eyes as it burned brighter and brighter. Then suddenly, everything stopped. Dean lowered his hands and looked tentatively around.

“Well, Dean,” said Crowley. “Welcome back to Hell.”

 

Crowley pushed open a door and led Dean into a long hallway. Dozens of people were standing in a long line, waiting. As they watched, the person at the front of the line came walked down the hallway and rejoined the end of the line.

“This doesn’t look like fire and brimstone...” said Dean, confused.

“No, that’s later on. This is a different level of hell, designed by yours truly for the masochists who got a bit kinky on the rack. Nobody likes waiting in line,” Crowley explained.

He led Dean past the souls, doomed to wait in a line to nothing for all eternity. They stopped near the end of the hall and Crowley opened a door.

“Cas will be through here. Somewhere,” he said.

Dean stepped over the threshold and looked around. This was much more what he expected hell to look like. Dark and creepy and dungeon-like. Dean could hear pitiful moans and whimpers in the dark and the distant echoes of tortured screams. Crowley followed him through the door and shut it behind him. 

“Look familiar?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe a little...” Dean closed his eyes, listening to the far-off screaming. “Actually... _that_ I almost remember. The screams. But only from nightmares.”

He winced and opened his eyes again.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Crowley started down the narrow corridor and Dean followed closely behind. Soon they came to rows and rows of dark dungeon cells.

“Do you think Cas would be in one of these?” Dean asked quietly, squinting through the bars of the nearest cell.

“Sometimes,” replied Crowley. “But not always. And considering he’s new down here... he’s most likely spending most of his time on the rack.”

Dean swallowed hard and turned away from the cell he’d been looking into. He had begun to block out the screaming but now the sound seemed to come back into focus.

“We have to find him. Now,” said Dean.

“Patience, Squirrel. Hell is a big place. There are lots of torture chambers and Cas could be in any one of them. And remember, time moves differently here than it does on earth. We could be home in time for dinner, but it would take us months. Years even,” Crowley said.

“All the more reason.”

“Right,” said Crowley. “Then we best be moving on.”

 

Time wore on as they walked deeper and deeper into the bowels of hell. Hours turned into days, into weeks, months. Dean had learned to block out the screams that echoed from unknown places, but when they stopped in hidden corners so he could sleep, he heard them worse than ever in his nightmares. Soon he started to realize that the screams he heard in his dreams were not the ones surrounding him, but memories from when he had been in hell himself... and then he realized that the screams were his own.

“Why did this have to be the first thing to come back?” he said when he told Crowley what was going on.

“Well, I suppose being back here is very...uh... triggering,” said Crowley.

“How long have we been down here?” Dean asked.

“Nearly eight months,” Crowley answered. “We’ve been searching quite a while, are you sure it wouldn’t be better to just...”

“No. I’m not giving up. Even if it takes eight years, or eighty, or eight hundred. I _will_ find him,” Dean insisted.

“You won’t last that long, mate. You’re still only human,” said Crowley.

“I don’t care. I’m not giving up on Cas.”

“Dean?”

Dean and Crowley froze and looked at each other. 

“Hello?” said Dean nervously.

“Dean, it’s me,” said the unmistakable voice.

“Cas?!”

Dean rushed to the bars of the cell they had just passed and peered in. Huddled up in the far corner, his hair matted and his face streaked with blood, was Cas.

“Dean, what are you doing here?” he said weakly.

“Rescuing you! How do we open this cell?” replied Dean, looking frantically for a lock.

“Allow me,” said Crowley, stepping forward.

He waved his hand over the bars and they swung open. Dean bolted to Cas’ side.

“God, you look awful,” he said.

“I’ve been in hell for almost a year,” Cas retorted.

“Right... yeah, hell does do that to you... I bet I didn’t look so hot either...”

“No, not really. How did you get here?” asked Cas.

“I got Crowley to help me in. We’ve been searching for months,” explained Dean.

“You shouldn’t have,” Cas protested.

“I had to. I couldn’t just leave you down here. Especially not now that I remember...” said Dean.

“You remember hell?”

“Yeah, for the most part,” muttered Dean.

“I hate to break up the emotional reunion, but in case you didn’t notice, we’re sort of... still in hell. So I suggest we get back topside as soon as possible,” Crowley interrupted.

“Oh, right,” said Dean. “Do you think you can walk?”

“I should be able to, at least for a while,” Cas replied.

Dean helped Cas to his feet. Cas leaned on him for a moment, swaying slightly.

“I think I might actually need a little assistance,” he said.

“I’ve got you, Cas,” said Dean.

He put an arm around Cas and gently led him out of the cell. 

“Hello Castiel. Sorry about the torture,” Crowley said. “Good thing it’s easier getting back out of hell than it is finding a single soul once you’re in, because we’d have demons on our tails the moment they discover you’re not in your cell otherwise.”

“You’ve got a way out, then?” Dean confirmed.

“Yes, of course I do, numbskull. You think I would drag you down here still alive and not have a way to get you back out?” said Crowley, pulling a small jar from his inside coat pocket.

“You’ve been carrying that around for eight months?”

“Well I didn’t snatch it out of thin air, did I?” said Crowley.

“I’m surprised you both made it this long without killing each other,” said Cas.

“Glad to see hell hasn’t taken your spunk. Now let’s jump ship, shall we?” Crowley said.

He led them around a corner and unscrewed the jar, using the contents to draw a sigil on the rough stone wall. Then he set the jar on the floor and recited another incantation. The ground shook and all three of them were engulfed in a blinding light.


	13. Help, I'm Alive

Dean’s vision blurred and his hearing seemed to be fuzzy, like an out of tune radio. His head was spinning and he was only vaguely aware of the cold, damp leaves underneath him and the fresh air brushing across his face. Images flashed before his eyes and voices spoke in his ears, some faint and distant, others loud and clear. 

 

Fire, heat, fear.

_“Take your brother outside as fast as you can!”_

“Dean!”

Monsters, darkness, cold.

Gunshots.

Salt and burn.

“Dean!”

_“Jerk.”_

_“Bitch.”_

Sam in the passenger seat of the Impala.

_“I’m going to take care of you. I gotcha.”_

Sam in his arms, limp.

_“Sammy!”_

“Dean!”

Demon deals. Ruby. Hellhounds.

Hell.

Darkness, stifling, digging out of the grave.

Castiel.

_“You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”_

“Dean!”

Demon blood. Lucifer. The Apocalypse.

_“It’s okay, Dean. I got him.”_

A year without Sam.

Betrayal.

_“Cas? He’s gone. We run the show now.”_

Cas, the lake, the coat.

Leviathans. Charlie. Kevin.

“Dean!”

Purgatory.

Searching for Cas.

Leaving him behind.

_“I didn’t want to be saved.”_

The bunker, the Men of Letters.

The trials. 

_“Cas, this isn’t you.”_

“Dean!”

The final trial.

Almost losing Sam.

The angels... falling....

“Dean, wake up, for the love of God!”

 

Everything snaps back to reality with the harshness of a car crash. Dean blinked rapidly as a rush of sounds washed over him and the forest came into focus.

“I remember,” he gasped.

“What?” Crowley said.

“I remember everything.”

“Dean, Castiel will have woken up in his grave, we need to get him out or we’ll be spending another eight months searching for him in hell,” said Crowley urgently.

“Cas...” muttered Dean distractedly, staggering clumsily to his feet.

Crowley grabbed Dean’s elbow and dragged him to the sad wooden cross that marked Cas’ grave.

“Start digging,” he ordered, getting on his knees and pushing away handfuls of dirt with his hands.

Dean joined him, head still reeling. Suddenly, his hand brushed something warm and familiar.

“Cas!” he exclaimed.

He dug more frantically as Cas’ hand struggled to push the rest of himself free. Finally, they dragged him out, gasping for air.

“Dean...” Cas panted as soon as he had enough breath to speak.

“I’m here.”


	14. I'm Coming Home

The bunker was uncomfortably quiet. It had been for two days. Not because it was empty. But because Sam and Kevin hadn’t spoken a word since finding Dean’s note. They seemed to have agreed without discussion upon a silent vigil until Dean and Crowley returned, hopefully with Cas. For the last two days, they would both get up, take some food and beer from the kitchen, then sit and wait until night, occasionally glancing up the stairs to the door, as though it would swing open at any moment.

 

It was a little after six thirty on the second day. Kevin turned to Sam and cleared his throat tentatively.

“Sam?” he said, his voice cracking slightly from lack of use.

Sam turned to him. He looked exhausted.

“I’ve been thinking a lot this whole time... and you know... I don’t think Dean would want us to just sit and wait for him. He’d want us to keep doing our job. To keep hunting, keep saving people. We don’t know when he’ll come back, if he does at all. And we can’t just sit here until then,” said Kevin.

“He’s gonna come back. I’m not giving up on him,” Sam said hoarsely.

“I know. I’m not giving up on him either,” said Kevin. “But we can’t sit around forever.”

Sam sighed heavily and looked at the empty beer bottle in his hands.

“I know. I just want to be here when he–”

There was a loud clattering from above, the sound of footsteps, and a slamming door. Sam and Kevin looked up at the balcony with wide eyes as Dean, Cas, and Crowley staggered into the bunker, all looking the worse for wear.

“Dean?!” gasped Sam, clambering to his feet.

“Hey Sammy,” said Dean with a weary smile.

He led the way down the stairs, meeting Sam at the bottom with a hug.

“You’re alive. Thank God, you’re alive,” Sam murmured.

“Yeah, I am. And Cas is too. Mission accomplished,” said Dean, pulling out of the hug.

“Hello Sam,” said Cas.

“Hey Cas.”

Sam hesitated a moment, then hugged Cas too. Cas stood in awkward surprise for a second before returning the hug.

“Hey Kevin, ya miss me?” Dean asked, ruffling Kevin’s hair.

“Of course,” Kevin said with a grin.

“Don’t I get a hug, Moose?” Crowley asked as Sam pulled away from Cas.

“No,” said Sam flatly.

“I brought Dean _and_ Castiel back home safely, just a little gratitude would be nice,” said Crowley.

“Yeah, about that,” said Sam, turning to his brother. “What the hell, Dean? I thought I told you we can’t trust him. And what happened to the ‘no demons in the bunker without a blindfold’ rule?”

“That last part was an accident, I was a bit distracted by, you know, getting back from hell,” said Dean. “And I _know_ he’s never been trustworthy. Trust me, I do. But Sam... we were in hell for eight months searching for Cas and Crowley never once left my side. He could have abandoned me, or betrayed me, or killed me, but he didn’t. I think that makes even the biggest douchebags at least a little less douchey.”

“You were in hell for eight months?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, time runs different down there. It was nearly a year for Cas. How long were we gone up here?” Dean said.

“Two days,” said Kevin.

“Everything I said and what you got out of it is how long we were down there?” said Dean.

“Well... it just seems like such a long time...” Kevin said.

“Eight months was a walk in the park compared to forty years,” said Dean.

“So Crowley really stuck with you all that time?” said Sam.

“Yup. Never wavered once. Kept watch sometimes so I could get some shut-eye. And here we all are, alive and back top-side,” Dean said.

“Huh...” said Sam, turning to Crowley. “Well I guess you deserve a thank you after all.”

“Yeah, I guess I do, Moose. And you’re welcome,” said Crowley.

“There’s something else,” said Dean. “When... when we got back... I remembered everything... it all just came back.”

“All of it?” asked Sam, eyes wide.

“All of it. Every last detail,” Dean replied.

An awkward half smile grew on Sam’s face.

“I honestly don’t know whether I should be happy for you or apologize,” he chuckled.

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad I remember. Even the shitty stuff,” said Dean. “So can we get cleaned up now? I reek of sulfur.”

“Yeah, of course, why’re you even asking?” Sam laughed.

“We’ll get some food for when you’re done, you guys are probably starved,” said Kevin.

“Thanks, Kev. Now let’s hit the showers! Care to join me and save some water, Cas?” Dean said with a wink.

Cas looked vaguely perplexed for a moment, then sudden clarity dawned on his face and his mouth twitched into a little smile.

“I’d love to,” he said.

“Please tell me the other shower is in a separate room,” Crowley said, turning to Sam imploringly.

“Yeah... it is...” Sam replied, staring at Dean and Cas in uncomfortable shock as they walked away.

“Oh thank God...” muttered Crowley.

“You look like you just walked in on your parents having sex,” Kevin said.

“Close enough,” said Sam.

“Well, you still can’t deny it’s good to have them home,” said Kevin.

“Yeah, I can’t deny that at all.”

Sam smiled a little and followed Kevin into the kitchen to make sandwiches, happy that things were going to go back to normal at last. Or at least for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed it, and kudos and comments are much appreciated :)


End file.
